Pandora Fate Works
by Kratos1989
Summary: It was said that Pandora found hope at the bottom of the box containing the world's evils. But what would humanity do if that hope came in the form of a blade soaked in blood and regrets? Rated T for the time being


**Published: December 25th 2016**

 **Prologue: Visions of Tomorrow**

* * *

 _ **The dream always started the same way.**_

 _ **As a dream of sorrow…**_

=()=

 _"Kazuya…"_ The girl whispered his name sadly as she turned to walk towards the light. "Goodbye..."

 _"Nee-san, don't go!"_ The young boy cried as he struggled to run after his sister, but it seemed each step he took was merely increasing the distance between the both of them. He reached out with his hand as he watched her go through the light and vanish. As tired as the boy was, he pushed on to follow her through the light…

And into a room where a coffin laid open for all to see.

 _'No…'_

The boy stopped in his tracks, a fear enveloping his heart as he tried to resist going to the coffin, but the coffin seemed to be drawn to him, mocking his feeble attempts to not see the occupant. Within a few moments, the coffin was right in front of him to peer inside, to reveal the final horror to him.

The body of his sister on a bed of white roses.

 _ **["We are sorry for your loss…"]**_

 _ **["She was a good friend…"]**_

 _ **["If you need anything, give us a call…"]**_

 _ **["Count on us…"]**_

Voices echoed in the room as figures and shadows appeared around him, their voices distorted and showing their true intentions as other voices sounded in the background, talking about how his sister was a monster that no one could keep up, the girl that had the looks to grab every man's attentions and made women hate with a passion, and finally the one who was the prized granddaughter of the family.

 _'Stop it! I don't want to hear any more of this!'_ The boy crouched down with his hands to his ears and his eyes closed, wishing for the voices to stop mocking him. He got his wish when the figures and shadows disappeared, but he soon found himself wishing them back when the figure of someone he hated and feared appeared before him.

His grandfather.

 _ **["You will follow my rules…"]**_ The man's words echoed in the darkness as a giant hand appeared and made to grab the boy. _**["You will obey me…"]**_

 _'No! NO!'_

The boy scrambled to get away from the hand that towered over him and descended on him like the hand of God handing down judgment. Tried as he might, he was unable to outrun it and ended up getting slammed to the ground by the hand, forcing him down as the man came closer to him.

 _'Somebody, anybody! HELP!'_ The boy thought desperately as the weight of the hand pinned him down, his attempts to be freed from it were futile. The boy stretched his arm out to a spot in front of him as though wishing for an escape to be made in front of him. And in response, a ball of light appeared before him and expanded, covering him in white light and blinding his eyes to the point of pain. It was only when the light diminished that the boy realised the weight of the hand was gone. Turning around, the boy was shocked to find the he was no longer in darkness but in a totally white space with no hint of his grandfather around or the dark voices around him.

In a daze, the boy turned back to the ball of light that hovered near him, the warmth radiating from it seemingly comforting him and empowering him with enough courage to raise his hand and lightly prod it.

And then…

=()=

 _ **… A dream of suffering…**_

=()=

 _"Get stronger, Stella…"_ The frail woman whispered as her hand was held by the girl.

 _"No mother, don't go!"_ The blonde girl wept as she tried to get her mother to stay awake, but to her horror, the woman seemed to be turning into sand and collapsing from the legs first, the rate of deterioration speeding up and finally reaching to the torso.

 _"Farewell, Stella…"_ The woman spoke one last time before her face started cracking and fell apart, following shortly by the arm being by the girl

 _"No, MOTHER!"_ The girl screamed in sorrow as she tried to hang on to the sand in her hands, all while voices started to echo around her.

 _ **["Look at her, the bastard child of the El Bridgets…"]**_

 _ **["She is just a commoner, not the real child…"]**_

 _ **["The Untouchable Queen, huh? More like a monster…"]**_

 _"No more, please stop!"_ The girl covered her ears and started running in an attempt to run away from the voices which seemed to follow her in the darkness. Then without warning, the voices stopped and she found herself knocking into something that sent her stumbling to the floor.

 **"Hello, dear sister…"**

 _'No!'_

Fearfully, she raised her eyes to find her half-brother leering at her with those lustful eyes. **"Why are you afraid? I am here to protect you…"** From the darkness behind him, shadowy hands appeared and approached her with dreading intent. **"All you have to do is listen to me. Submit to me…"**

 _'No, stop!'_ The girl got up to run, but the hands grabbed her by the limbs and lifted her off the ground, immobilizing her and leaving her at the mercy of the other hands that started to tear her clothes off, all while hearing the jeering voices that mocked her for her weakness.

 _'STOP PLEASE!'_ The girl struggled as more hands started to appear and creeped around her body, desperately wishing for something or someone to stop this nightmare. Seemingly in response to her plea, a ball of light appeared before her, the rays coming off it apparently hurting the dark appendages holding her as they combusted into flames, scaring them away and releasing their hold on her in the process. The girl barely had time to watch her brother scream in pain as his skin caught fire before he got reduced into ashes. Reeling from the shock, the girl slowly turned back to the ball of light that had gotten closer for her to see. With a slightly shaking hand, she raised her arm to poke it. In response to her touch, the ball expanded to engulf her and the darkness in pure light.

And then…

=()=

 _ **… A dream of questioning faiths…**_

=()=

 _ **["Keep on smiling, Chiffon…"]**_

 _'I am doing it, but I can't help thinking if humanity really deserves saving…'_

Those thoughts reverberated around the girl as she watched her memories flash before her, from the time she was born, to the time she ran away from the lab, to the time she met 'her friend', to the time of 'her friend's' death by the suppression team, to the time she came to West Genetics to fulfill her role.

So many memories, so many questions…

So many things to wonder about the worth of humans and their struggles…

As she thought that, voices starting echoing in the area around her, all belonging to those she met at West Genetics, calling her names like 'the Smiling Monster' or 'The Student Council Beast', others giving rise to their inner fears if she was truly human, but one voice in particular was getting her attention. It was the softest of the lot, but the message was the loudest.

The voice belonging to her creator.

 _ **["Your purpose is to buy time for humanity to survive…"]**_

Why?

Why must she be burdened with this pain and vagueness? Why was she created? Even her sisters could not tell her that, and whoever she could trust were not able to give her that too.

Was there anyone who shared her uncertainness?

As though to respond to that question, a door appeared by her side, the light peeking out of the gaps drawing her eyes. Slowly, she raised her arm and placed her hand on the knob, pausing for a moment before turning it. With a light push, the door opened to reveal a light that flooded the area, pushing back the darkness while the girl felt drawn to enter the door.

And then…

=()=

 _ **After that, the dream would always change to the same scene…**_

=()=

It was quiet.

It was cold.

It was painful.

It was sad.

Those were the words that one would think of when gazing upon the landscape before them. Barren of all vegetation, the undulating lands set the scene of what could be called the bloodiest battle in human history: bodies strewn all over, hunks of torn metal burning from the wrecks of tanks and trucks, the ground broken and flooded with blood, and the scent of death pervading the area.

Yet despite all of that, they seemed to pale in comparison to the weapons that littered the battlegrounds.

Specifically, swords and spears.

Such medieval items should not appear on what was obviously a modern battleground, yet here they were, stuck to the ground amongst the corpses and wreckage of the fight. The light from their blades shone brightly, giving a dark contrast to the scene of carnage. They stood proudly while giving off a sense of dread.

If one were to make a guess, they resembled makeshift grave-markers for the fallen.

On and on the landscape went, a seemingly endless view of war that would make one's heart quake and even the hardiest of men weep in sorrow, all of which stood the weapons that stood out in its midst. In the distance, a lone hill seemed to rise from the ground, towering everything else around it. More weapons littered its ground as though to draw one's attention to the lone figure that stood on the peak.

It was a white-haired man whose body was pierced with swords and riddled with wounds that bled out. His head was bowed, not letting his facial features be seen from the back, but what little could be seen would tell someone that he was heavily tanned and likely seen many wars to the point of being annulled to the suffering. His red coat stuck to his body from both the weapons and the blood, with the ends of the coat fluttering lightly in the wind. His pants and dark boots were stained with the blood that flowed out of his wounds and the arm by his side was hung limply, the blood drops being frequent in its timing.

To complete the look of one who had fought hard to only be greeted with death in the face, a spear was in his grasp and thrusted into the ground, seemingly holding him up to view the carnage before him, a scene of never-ending war that consumed the lands and wiped all life away as the sun sets in the horizon.

A sad scene for a sad man…

=()=

 ** _The dream should have ended the same way…_**

 ** _But this time, it changed._**

=()=

It was a subtle wind that changed the scene.

The clouds started to move, the grass started to wave and the red coat started to bellow.

A finger twitched, then a hand.

A leg, then a shoulder.

An arm, then his neck.

With a jolt, the man raised his head slowly to look at the setting sun, the rays of light seemingly giving him strength as he released his grip on the spear and his body straightened to his full height, all signs of his weariness and impending death seemingly vanished with that action. After a moment, the man turned just as the sun rays shone on him, illuminating his body to the point of hiding his facial features. From the place he stood, he opened his mouth and whispered, but in the silence, it seemingly roared in the area.

 **"I am… the bone of my sword."**

* * *

=()=

* * *

 **=====Author's Notes=====**

Hello, here's a little present for you guys on Christmas. This is something that popped into my head recently and I thought of writing it out just to hang on to the idea. Not sure about expanding this story just yet, but I am putting it out there for you guys to see if it is viable. Despite the setting, this won't necessarily involve Archer. I like to think of it as leaving the ending open-ended. Should I actually continue this story, there is a high chance this would be my first M-Rated story, considering the nature of the manhwa in question. (We are talking about the author who can make such **~beautiful~** drawings ~.o)

For those wondering about my other fate crossover, I am still working on DFW, no worries there.

Have a happy holiday! Merry Christmas and hopefully a fruitful New Year!

And I put my pen down for now.


End file.
